


The Family (Tender Years one-shot)

by justtakeachanceanddance



Series: Tender Years [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Daddy Kurt, Future Fic, M/M, Teenage Parents, daddy Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtakeachanceanddance/pseuds/justtakeachanceanddance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Burt and Carole visit New York for Thanksgiving and meet Blaine and Maya for the first time. Part of the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1046522">Tender Years</a> verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Family (Tender Years one-shot)

***

Blaine’s hazel eyes were fuzzy, unfocused as they swept across the jam-packed airport terminal. His face, normally full of color, looked drained of all its usual vibrancy. He stood stock-still, holding Maya’s little hand in a death grip. 

“Are you nervous?” Kurt asked, just loud enough for Blaine to hear over the din of the crowd.

Blaine shrugged. “I mean. You know.” He took a deep breath, and then blew it out through his mouth. “It’s just...I mean, it’s really hot in here, and–”

“Blaine,” Kurt interrupted him, the beginnings of a grin building on his face. “You’re adorable. I haven’t heard you stutter like that since our first date.” He reached for Blaine’s free hand with his own; it was warm and clammy, and he gave it a light squeeze of reassurance. “I told you, they can’t wait to meet you.”

“I know. I can’t wait to meet them, either. But...this is a big deal.” He grasped Kurt’s hand tighter. “It’s your _parents_.”

It _was_ a big deal. Kurt had never introduced a man to his father and stepmother – he’d never even _had_ someone in his life important enough to introduce them to. He was navigating uncharted waters, guided only by instinct and love. And his instinct was telling him that this was the first of many Thanksgivings the four of them – Kurt, Blaine, Maya, and Elliot – would be standing here at JFK, holding hands as they waited for Kurt’s parents to emerge through the security gate.

Kurt smiled at him – the dopey, happy gaze he only ever gave to Blaine, the one that spilled warmth all the way down to his heart and his belly. “It means a lot to me that you’re here.”

Some of the spirit started to return to Blaine’s face; his cheeks grew pinker, and his eyes stayed sharply focused as they stared into Kurt’s. “We wouldn’t be anywhere else right now,” he said.

As if on cue, Kurt felt Blaine’s other arm jostle. “Daddy,” Maya’s voice rang out as she tugged on his hand. “Can I go look at that store over there?”

It was a toy store, Kurt realized when he glanced in the direction where Maya was staring longingly. Even though it was the day before Thanksgiving, the store’s front window was already decked out for Christmas, with gleaming bulbs and sparkling lights and giant fake presents wrapped in shiny, jewel-toned paper. The hottest toys of the season – Kurt knew because Elliot had already handed him his Christmas list two weeks prior – sat in front of it all, taunting the children who walked by.

“No,” Blaine said firmly. “We’re waiting right here for Elliot’s grandparents. They’re going to be here any minute.”

Kurt peeked at the clock high above the security checkpoint, its digits glowing huge and red: _11:27_. His iPhone app had told him that his parents’ plane had touched down ten minutes ago, just five minutes later than scheduled. But they were still stuck somewhere between their seats and the terminal, in that strange vortex of airport travel where time always seemed to slow to a crawl.

“Sorry,” he apologized to Blaine. “They shouldn’t be much longer.”

“It’s fine,” Blaine assured him. “She’s being obnoxious on purpose because she’s not getting what she wants.”

“But Daddy, they have that doll I told you about, and I just want you to see it so you know–”

“ _Maya_.” There was a sharp, warning edge to Blaine’s voice that Kurt rarely heard – likely a symptom of his nerves. “I know about the doll. You will stay _right here_.”

“ _Hmph!_ ” Maya yanked her hand from Blaine’s and crossed her arms across her chest, sulking.

“Great,” Blaine muttered. “First time we meet your parents, and she decides to throw a temper tantrum.” He turned to look down at her. “If you’re not going to hold my hand, you need to hold Elliot’s. There are a lot of people here and I don’t want you to get lost.”

Maya ignored him, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor. Kurt glanced over at Elliot, who was standing quietly to his right. He was staring at Maya with a tentative expression, like he wanted to go to her but didn’t know if he should.

“Ell, go over there and keep an eye on her, okay?” Kurt asked, giving him the push he knew he needed.

“Okay,” Elliot said, nodding. He released Kurt’s hand and walked over to Maya, putting a tentative arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Maya…it’s okay,” Kurt heard him say before Blaine turned back to face him.

“Thank god we have _one_ well-behaved kid, at least,” Blaine said, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

It was phrases like that, spoken offhand and in the moment, that always made Kurt’s heart skip a beat. When Blaine referred to their children as _their children_ , together, or when Blaine would ask if they wanted to go _home_ , even though they still lived in separate apartments. They’d only been dating five months, but they were already a unit, the bud of a family that was just beginning to bloom.

“ _We_ have _two_ well-behaved children,” Kurt told him, smiling. “But we all have our limits. Trust me, I want to get out of here, too. I have a turkey to brine!”

At the mention of food, Blaine’s eyes lit up. “Can I tell you how excited I am to have Thanksgiving dinner prepared by the one and only Kurt Hummel?” He hooked an arm around Kurt’s waist and pulled him close, murmuring in his ear. “Will you feed me your famous pumpkin pie in bed after the kids go to sleep? Maybe with a little whipped cream on top?”

Kurt nearly choked on his laugh, even though he felt a stir of arousal in his belly. “Easy there, fella. We might not have much time for... _foodplay_ with my parents around.”

“So we’ll wait till they go back to Finn and Rachel’s for the night. Come _onnn_ , Kurt–”

“Hey, there’s my favorite grandson!”

At the sudden sound of his father’s voice, Kurt jumped from Blaine’s embrace, just in time to see Elliot launch himself into Burt and Carole’s open arms. “Hi, Grampa! Hi, Nana!” he exclaimed.

“Boy, did we miss you, buddy!” Burt wrapped Elliot in a big bear hug, the kind of embrace he saved for his only grandson.

“Dad! Carole! Hi!” Kurt’s voice came out a high-pitched squeak. He felt his face flush as he forced away the image of pie and whipped cream and Blaine in his bed.

“Hey, Kurt!” Burt released Elliot and grabbed Kurt in a tight embrace. “Missed ya, kid.”

“I missed you, too, Dad.” Before Blaine, before Elliot, before Finn and Carole, there had always been his father. Despite their differences and their distance, they were best friends, then and now and forever.

Carole continued to coo over Elliot, like the doting grandmother she loved to be. “Oh, Elly, you’ve grown so much since summer! You look like a young man, I can’t believe it!” Then she turned her attention to Kurt. “And you! Hi again, handsome.”

“Hi, Carole.” Kurt let himself be swept up in her embrace; it was soft and familiar, and she smelled of perfume and lavender oil, just like their home in Ohio always did. Kurt breathed in deeply, soaking up the memory and steadying himself for what was about to happen.

“Guys...” It was time; his heart was racing. He pulled back from Carole’s arms and looked behind him. Blaine was standing there, looking unsure and anxious and gloriously excited all at the same time. He smiled and reached for Blaine’s arm, bringing him into the fold of his family. “This is Blaine.”

“Blaine!” Burt stuck out a hand and took Blaine’s in his own, shaking it vigorously. “Burt Hummel. Good to finally meet ya!”

“Likewise,” Blaine said, flashing him a gleaming grin. Blaine may have been nervous, but he had no shortage of charisma stored up inside. And he was using every ounce of it now.

Carole didn’t bother with formalities; she reached forward and pulled Blaine into a warm hug, one that made Kurt’s eyes sting with the threat of tears. “So lovely to meet you, Blaine. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“And I as well,” Blaine told her as they broke apart. “I’m really looking forward to getting to know you both this week.”

Carole smiled at him, clearly captivated by his charm. “And where’s your little girl?”

Instantly, Kurt’s blood ran cold. He felt Blaine freeze, too, as if their veins and their bones were tied to one body. _Where was Maya?_

Kurt whipped his head in the direction where she had been standing with Elliot. No Maya.

He whirled in the other direction. No Maya.

“Maya?” he called out, the first beats of panic hammering in his chest. “Blaine, where did she go?”

Blaine didn’t answer. “Excuse me,” he managed to say to Burt and Carole before bolting toward the toy store. 

Kurt stood there for a second, watching Blaine’s quickly retreating figure. The fear inside him was quickly morphing into anger. “Elliot! I told you to keep an eye on her!” he cried, turning to look down at his son.

Elliot’s chin began to tremble, and tears welled in his baby blue eyes. “She told me not to say anything!” he wailed.

“I... _agh_!” Kurt held up his hands, motioning for his confused parents to stay in place. “Just...stay here. We’ll be right back.” And he took off after Blaine. 

The crowd was thick with people – standing, walking, waiting, all of them in his way. He dodged them less than gracefully, calling out “Excuse me!” as he wove between baby carriages and roller bags and hired drivers holding little white signs printed with people’s last names. Finally, he was able to catch a clear glimpse of the toy store’s front window.

There was Blaine, crouched on his knees outside the store, clutching Maya against his chest in a desperate embrace. _Thank god._ Kurt could feel his whole body exhale with relief.

Then Blaine suddenly released her, gripping her shoulders and holding her out at his arm’s length. As he got closer, Kurt could hear him shouting.

“...and that’s a very bad impression to make! You have _no idea_ how much trouble you’re in right now!”

“Hey, hey...it’s okay, we found her.” Kurt ran a hand across Blaine’s back, up and down, trying to soothe him, and squatted down to Maya’s eye level. He always walked a delicate line when it came to reprimanding her – after all, she wasn’t his daughter, and he wasn’t sure how he’d feel if Blaine spoke to Elliot a certain way. But in a case like this, he’d have no problem with Blaine telling Elliot exactly what he’d done wrong.

“You can’t run off like that, Maya,” he said, firm but calmer than the scolding she’d just received from Blaine.

“I’m sorry.” She hung her head, clearly ashamed. “I just really wanted to see the stuff in the window.”

“Okay, well, you saw it. So now let’s go meet Elliot’s grandparents, since they’re standing over there waiting for us.” Blaine hoisted her up in his arms as if she were a little girl he couldn’t trust to walk on her own.

“I was wrong,” Kurt muttered to Blaine as they walked back to where his parents were waiting with Elliot. “We have _no_ well-behaved children.”

“Sorry about that,” Blaine said breathlessly to Burt and Carole as he set Maya down on her feet in front of them. “This is my daughter, Maya. She likes to take off in crowded public places. Maya, please say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Hummel.”

Apparently, her father’s message to obey had finally gotten through. “Hello,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft and glum.

Burt grinned down at her. “A little rogue, huh? Eh, I like a kid with some spirit.” He looked up at Kurt, and Kurt could see nostalgia swimming in his green eyes. “I remember one time Kurt got lost in the mall in Lima, you remember that old one? You were probably about six. His mother and I looked for him for ten minutes, in an absolute panic. Where’d we finally find him?”

“In the shoe store,” Kurt supplied. A memory of high heels – in every shade, fluorescent yellow and fire engine red and electric blue, balanced atop glass shelves and glossy shoeboxes – came to his mind.

“Of course. Kid loved shoes.”

“Still do.” Kurt smiled at him gratefully. Whether it was from his years dealing with customers in a tire shop or raising a gay son in a conservative Midwestern town, Kurt wasn’t sure, but his father was an expert in breaking the tension in awkward situations.

“Please, let me take your bags,” Blaine offered to both of them. “You guys must be tired from traveling.”

Burt laughed. “Not as tired as you probably are from chasing that girl around everywhere.”

“Touché,” Blaine said with a chuckle. But still, he reached for Carole’s suitcase, rolling it behind him as the group began walking toward the exit. Elliot and Maya led the pack, their hands clasped together, and Blaine and Burt followed close behind. Kurt couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but still he watched, smiling to himself when Blaine said something and Burt smacked him on the back in reply.

Carole suddenly leaned close to him. “You guys look like such a little family.”

When Kurt turned to her, he saw a certain look glimmering in her eyes. It was foreign yet familiar – a message coded in a secret language that Kurt had never before seen, but instinctively understood. It was the look a parent passed to her child when she just _knew_ he’d found the right one.

He must have spoken it back with his own eyes, because she nodded and whispered in his ear, “That one’s a keeper.”

“Yeah,” Kurt affirmed, biting down on a radiant grin. “I’m never letting him go.”

***

After the chaos at the airport, all Kurt wanted to do was throw his feet up on the couch and call it a day. But there was cooking and cleaning to do, and last-minute errands to run, and children to care for...

“You guys go take care of whatever you need to do,” Carole told him when the taxi dropped them off at his apartment. “We’ll stay here with the kids.”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” Blaine looked at her with a mix of incredulity and utter happiness.

“Of course not, honey.” She smiled and patted his arm. “That’s what grandparents are for – we swoop in for a few days every once in a while and give you overworked parents a break!”

And so they were set free, gifted a glorious afternoon to attack their mundane to-do list without any children in tow. Their first stop was the grocery store – the gorgeous natural foods paradise where Kurt rarely ventured with Elliot around.

“I’m thinking no parade tomorrow,” Kurt said as they walked into the store. He pulled a balled-up canvas bag from the tote he carried and handed it to Blaine.

Blaine made a noise, halfway between a laugh and a scoff. “No way. She’s as grounded as an eight-year-old can be.”

“Ditto for Elliot. They definitely can’t sleep together tonight, either.” Ever since the first night the Andersons had stayed over the Hummels, Elliot and Maya had made a habit of falling asleep together in Elliot’s bedroom. It was a privilege that Kurt and Blaine had taken away only once before.

This time too, Blaine was on the same page. “Nope.”

The store was packed with people, and a cursory glance at the half-bare shelves told Kurt this might be the longest, least fruitful shopping trip of his life. Still they wandered the aisles, picking up spices and sugar and sparkling cider for the kids to drink at dinner. They moved at a slower pace than their usual breakneck speed, holding hands here and there as they walked.

“This feels weird,” Kurt mused aloud to Blaine as they entered the produce section, brightly lit and mostly picked over.

“Yeah. I was just thinking the same thing.”

“It’s because the kids aren’t here.”

“I know.” Blaine breathed in deeply, then sighed. “It’s great.”

Kurt laughed. “It really is. Actually...have we ever been shopping together without the kids?”

Blaine’s eyes rolled skyward as he searched his memory. “I...don’t think so.”

Kurt gasped. “Another first!” They collected firsts like one would collect coins or trinkets, storing them in the collective memory they’d begun to build together. First sleepover, first lovemaking. First child’s birthday party, first double date with Finn and Rachel, first romantic walk in Central Park.

Blaine grinned at him. “Happy first grocery trip without the kids.” And right there, between the swarms of shoppers and the last of the organic onions, he leaned forward and smacked a loud kiss against Kurt’s lips.

***

Thanksgiving day dawned bright and frosty cold, with Blaine drowsily grabbing for Kurt in vain as he slipped out from under the covers to begin preparing the day’s feast. First came breakfast: homemade cinnamon rolls bathed in sweet, gooey cream cheese frosting – a rare holiday treat that they all devoured while sitting on the couch together, still clad in their pajamas, a thick blanket thrown over their legs for warmth. The only sound in the room was the soft volume of the television, broadcasting the cheery sights and sounds of the Macy’s parade they’d vetoed visiting in person.

After breakfast was finished and their dishes put away, Kurt pulled the turkey out of the fridge, while Blaine led the charge of getting the kids washed up and presentable for the day: first Maya, then Elliot, then poor Blaine himself, who yelped when Kurt’s ancient pipes finally gave up on their effort to pump warm water to the shower.

“Sorry, baby!” Kurt yelled from the kitchen. He had a pile of diced white potatoes in front of him, waiting to be added to the giant, simmering pot on the stove. “Wait an hour and it’ll come back!”

Kurt heard the water abruptly shut off. Then came Blaine’s muffled reply: “That’s what she said!”

“Damn you, Finn,” Kurt grumbled to himself, even though an uncontrollable laugh escaped from his lips. When he wasn’t showing Elliot how to play drums on objects that were never meant to be musical instruments, Finn had developed an affinity for teaching Blaine immature jokes.

Kurt’s shoebox apartment seemed to shrink in half when Burt, Carole, Finn, and Rachel arrived at noon, all dressed in their holiday best. They crammed themselves into any free corner they could find, their familial chatter flowing as freely as the beer and wine Kurt kept refilling before anyone’s glass could empty.

Dinner was an epic battle of too many people versus too little space; thankfully, the people emerged victorious, thanks in part to Blaine’s idea to drag Kurt’s tiny dining table and chairs from the kitchen to the living room – only about six feet in reality, but making a world of difference. Between the dinette set, the couch, the coffee table, and the floor, all eight of them managed to find a space of their own.

Kurt preened at the chorus of compliments he received when he and Blaine served dinner: garlic-flecked mashed potatoes and buttery rolls, roasted carrots and gorgeously tart cranberry sauce, and the centerpiece of it all, a golden, spiced turkey that his father carved expertly. They ate together, talked together, laughed together, as if they’d all spent every Thanksgiving together since time immemorial.

“Mr. Hummel,” Maya said during a lull in their dinner conversation. She sat next to Elliot on the floor, perched atop a throw pillow so she could reach her plate on the coffee table. “Are you Finn’s dad, too?”

“I’m Finn’s stepdad.” He nodded in acknowledgement to Finn, who sat beside him on the couch.

“What’s the difference?” she asked as she pierced a piece of turkey with her fork. 

“Maya, we’ve talked about this,” Blaine interjected from his seat at the dining table. “A stepparent is married to someone’s biological parent. I mean...their _blood_ parent,” he clarified.

“Yeah. I’m married to Carole...er, Mrs. Hummel, so her son Finn is my stepson, and my son Kurt is her stepson. And Finn and Kurt are stepbrothers. But,” Burt added, shrugging. “We’re all family just the same.”

“Right.” Maya bobbed her head in agreement. “Because a family is everybody that loves you. Even if you aren’t really related.”

Burt raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s exactly right,” he said with a chuckle. “Who told you that?”

“Daddy.”

“Well, your dad sounds like a smart guy.”

Blaine’s hand was resting on Kurt’s thigh under the table; when Burt spoke, Kurt reached for it and squeezed his fingers tightly.

“Oh, he’s the smartest. And the best... _usually_.” Maya shot Blaine a look, clearly remembering her scolding at the toy store the day before.

“Don’t push it,” Blaine warned her with a tiny smirk, his voice lacking any heat.

Maya sat in silence for a moment, focused intensely on the task of scooping a dollop of mashed potatoes onto the turkey slice still stuck onto her fork. Whenever Maya was quiet, Kurt had learned, she was thinking hard about something. It was like the whole room was watching her connect some invisible dots in her mind, anticipating what she would say next.

“So...” she started again after a few more seconds. “If Daddy gets married to Kurt, does that mean Elly would be _my_ stepbrother?”

The hand that was holding Blaine’s flew to Kurt’s mouth, barely managing to keep the bite of food he’d just taken from spitting out across the table. All of the adults in the room turned to stare at them, each wearing a predictable expression: Burt amused, Finn confused, and Rachel and Carole with the type of girlish excitement that only came when _the_ _M word_ was thrown around.

“Uh.” Blaine cleared his throat. “Yes, baby. That would be accurate.”

“Hmmm.” Maya finally stuck her fork in her mouth and chewed for a moment. “But Elly is my boyfriend,” she said before she’d fully finished the bite, her voice garbled around her food.

“Yeah.” Blaine’s whole face was bright red – from embarrassment or held-in laughter, Kurt wasn’t quite sure. Under the table, their hands found each other again, gripping one another like a lifeline.

Maya turned to look at Elliot. “Elly, would you rather be my boyfriend or my brother?” she demanded.

It wasn’t the first time Maya had put the deer-in-headlights look in Elliot’s eyes. “Well...ummm…your boyfriend, I guess,” he managed to say.

“Okay. _Good._ ” She leveled her gaze at Blaine again. “So you can’t get married. Not until we break up, anyway.”

Kurt gasped, feigning shock. Keeping up with the act was all he could do to keep from cracking up. “Do you think you’ll break up?” he asked.

“Well, we’re only eight years old!” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Who _knows_.”

“So!” Rachel cut in, her voice bright and trembling with barely held laughter. “I think we should go around and tell everybody what we’re thankful for. Because I know this has been a _wonderful_ year for all of us. I can _start_ …” she said, as if she would have given anyone else the chance to lead the conversation. “I’m thankful for my lovely husband, Finn, of _course_. And I’m so glad Blaine and Maya are here with us this year. And many more, we hope.” She smiled sweetly at Blaine as the rest of the Hummels called out “ _Hear, hear!_ ” in agreement.

Rachel looked at him. “Kurt! As our lovely host, you get to go next!”

The obvious answer to the question was Blaine, of course. _“I’m thankful I found my soulmate. I’m thankful for his daughter and her friendship with my son.”_ How could he say anything else?

Kurt was silent as his gaze swept around the room, from person to person. Elliot. Maya. His dad. Finn. Carole. Blaine. Rachel. He was thankful for all of them – deeply and differently, but equally. And he was thankful that they’d all come together under one cramped roof to share his home, his life, his love.

“I’m thankful for my family,” he decided to say. “I love you all so much.”

“Cheers!” Rachel called out, raising her glass. “To our _family_.”

“To our family.” Kurt heard all the Hummels say it in unison. But he couldn’t tear his eyes from Blaine, and the beautiful grin that broke out across his face – so strong, but wavering under the weight of the emotion that shone in his eyes.

“I love you,” Kurt mouthed, his silent words hidden by the wine glass he held high in the air.

“I love you,” Blaine answered back.

***

Kurt’s feast didn’t end with turkey and potatoes. His final course was the pumpkin pie he’d taught himself how to make at age thirteen, when one day he’d found a twisted, oil-splattered recipe card shoved into the back corner of the kitchen drawer, under the phone book and the spare house keys and the candles he was only allowed to light when the power went out. It was scribbled in his mother’s youthful handwriting, and when Burt tried the pie that evening after work, he told Kurt it tasted like she’d never left.

“ _Man._ It’s like she’s still here, whipping up pies and taking names.” Burt’s fork clanged against his empty plate, and he sunk back into the couch with a satisfied sigh. “You’re a chip off the ol’ block, Kurt.”

Beside him, Blaine groaned. “If this is what I have to look forward to every Thanksgiving, you’re never getting rid of me.”

“That’s the plan.” Kurt took one last bite of pie, rolling the spicy, creamy filling around on his tongue, and smiled.

***

Hours later, Kurt’s apartment still smelled of roasted turkey and sweet pastries. It was embedded in the air, their clothes, their memories. 

Kurt and Carole sat together in comfortable silence at the dining table, since moved back to its home in the corner of the kitchen. They picked at the last of the chocolate chip cookies Carole had made with the kids the day before, even though Kurt felt so full that his stomach could burst.

Finn and Rachel had left an hour ago, having promised a friend they would drop in for dessert. Burt still sat in his same spot on the couch – except now he was snoring, his arms crossed over his belly and his socked feet propped up on the coffee table. Next to him, Maya was sprawled across the rest of the couch’s length, a mess of tangled curls strewn around her face. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically under the soft burgundy blanket that Burt had draped across her sleeping figure before he himself had dozed off.

Blaine and Elliot sat on the living room rug playing Apples to Apples, still Elliot’s favorite game since he’d received it from Blaine for his birthday in July. Their low murmurs were punctuated with bursts of _“Yes!”_ and _“Aw, man!”_ when one would win or lose a round.

“You seem so happy, Kurt,” Carole said. She reached for another cookie, breaking off a tiny piece, then another, but making no motion to eat any of it.

Kurt was silent as he observed his son and his boyfriend playing together. Elliot had taken a quiet liking to Blaine over the past several months, and it was in these simple moments that their newfound relationship shined. Blaine was exuberant and affectionate and passionate in a way Kurt wasn’t – not a right way or a wrong way, just a different way, one that injected a fresh burst of energy into their lives. Elliot gave Blaine something new, too: He was an old soul trapped in an eight-year-old’s body, a boy who showed a soft, gentle, but entirely genuine form of love that was so unlike how Maya had steamrolled her way into Kurt’s heart. Most importantly, Elliot gave him something like a son.

“Yeah,” Kurt finally said. “We are.”

When he turned back to Carole, Kurt found her watching them, too. She spoke slowly, as if she was describing the scene in front of her. “It usually takes a long time to build that. That...trust and closeness. That family unit.” She looked at him with a small, wistful smile. “You remember how difficult it was when your father and I got together. We all had so many disagreements.”

He nodded. He did remember: the fights, the name-calling, the time when Carole and Finn moved out after they’d moved in because they just couldn’t make it work, not on the first try. “We haven’t really had many arguments or anything like that. It’s just... _working_ , and it’s kind of amazing.”

“It was meant to be,” Carole said, smiling brighter. Then she chuckled quietly. “Funny how it’s happened for you the same way it did for your father and me. We had our children and our own little lives. And then...you kids brought us together.”

It was funny, wasn’t it? How sad and stark his life had once seemed, not so many years ago. How he’d thought it was all over when baby Elliot had been thrown into his arms at eighteen years old. But all that pain, all that struggle and sacrifice had led him right here, to a tiny apartment in Brooklyn with his son, his parents, his boyfriend – his family. He wouldn’t be anywhere else right now.

Kurt returned her smile, and then leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Speaking of kids, it’s time I get mine to bed. He needs a full night for tomorrow.”

“Ah, that’s right.” As pleasant as Thanksgiving had been, the days of their vacation had to march on. “What time is Blaine’s show, again?”

“Seven.” Kurt was bringing them to _Bye Bye Birdie_ – the third, or maybe the fourth time he and Elliot had seen it, and likely the last, since it was slated to close at the end of the holiday season. “We’ll get dinner first...play tourists in Times Square. We haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Sounds like a plan. I know for lunch Finn and Rachel want to bring us to some new place they found. Ethiopian, I think?” Carole made a wild face, like she couldn’t quite remember but knew it would end up being something she’d never forget.

Kurt gave her a sleepy smile. The drowsy side effects of his heavy feast were quickly taking hold. “You’ll have a great day. And Saturday maybe we can bring the kids to the park. It’s supposed to get a little warmer by then.”

“Oh, we’d like that.” She stopped and pressed her lips together, staring at him for a moment before speaking again. “I’m so glad we’re here. We miss you so much when you’re gone.”

Kurt could feel his eyes start to sting. There was only one thing he missed about Ohio: the simple comfort of being close to his parents. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around her neck. “Aw. We miss you too.”

He heard her sniffle, close to his ear, and he knew she was feeling sentimental as well – they always did when they got together. She patted his back and then pulled away, dabbing at one of her eyes with the back of her knuckle. “Okay. I need to wake him up and get us back to Finn’s.”

Kurt followed her into the living room. She walked over to Burt and rubbed his arm, gently rousing him from sleep, while Kurt shuffled over to Elliot and Blaine and dropped to his knees on the rug. “It’s time for bed, Ell,” he said softly.

“Wait! Can we just do one more?” Elliot looked up at him, blue eyes pleading. “You judge it!”

Kurt sighed, but he didn’t push it. “All right.” He picked a green card off the top of the pile and turned it over. “‘Smelly.’ Go!”

“Ooh, ooh!” Elliot plucked a red card from his hand and slapped it facedown onto the rug.

Across from him, Blaine scratched his head as he scanned his options. “Umm...I guess. Yeah.” He selected one of his own cards and placed it on top of Elliot’s.

“Okay... _smelly…_ ” Kurt separated the two red cards and flipped them over at the same time. “Spinach. Flip-flops.” He snorted an undignified laugh. He _hated_ flip-flops. “Oh, that’s perfect. Flip-flops.”

Elliot threw his arms up in the air. “All _right_!”

“Smelly flip-flops...are you my son, or what?” Kurt reached out and smoothed his hair back once, tenderly, then patted his shoulder twice. “All right. _Now_ it’s time for bed.”

Elliot frowned a little, but didn’t argue. With Blaine’s help, he cleaned up the cards and placed them neatly back in their box. “Is Maya coming?” he asked as he picked up the box and stood up.

“Yeah. I’ll wake her up as soon as your grandparents leave,” Blaine told him.

As Elliot walked away to his bedroom, Kurt scooched himself across the rug and sidled up to Blaine’s leg. “So, how was your first Thanksgiving with the family?”

When Blaine turned to him, Kurt saw a familiar look shimmering in his eyes. It was love and joy and something else, a yet-unspeakable emotion that Kurt had seen written across his face countless times since that first beautiful summer evening they’d spent together. It tugged at Kurt’s heartstrings, stealing his breath away.

“What?” he asked, his voice suddenly weak. Though he thought he might already know the answer.

“I just…” Blaine trailed off at the sound of Burt and Carole’s voices saying goodnight to Elliot. His gaze slid over to them, watching closely for a moment before he looked back at Kurt. “I’ll tell you later, okay?”

***

_Later_ was in half an hour, once they’d sent Kurt’s parents off into the city lights with hugs and love, and tucked Elliot and Maya into Elliot’s warm bed together. One night apart had been enough of a punishment for the two youngsters.

A cold splash of water to his face chased Kurt’s fatigue away, at least temporarily. Feeling refreshed, Kurt quietly snuck into his bedroom and softly clicked the door shut behind him.

Blaine was already snuggled into bed, holding one of the tiny framed photos Kurt kept by his bedside. It was the picture of him and Elliot and his parents, taken three long years ago – days before he’d left Ohio behind to embark on a new life in New York.

“Talk to me.” Kurt climbed onto the foot of the bed and crawled up the length of Blaine’s body, hidden under a plush pile of cozy blankets. He clasped his fingers over Blaine’s belly and rested his chin on his hands.

Blaine didn’t speak right away. Absently, he set the photo frame down on his chest, and then reached out toward Kurt’s face, stroking his cheek with the back of his hand. “I had...the _best_ day today, Kurt.”

Kurt smiled into Blaine’s soft, gentle touch. “I’m glad. I wanted you to.”

Blaine was quiet again; his golden gaze roamed across Kurt’s face, the bed, the whole room. “Did I tell you about my Thanksgiving last year?”

Kurt shook his head, and Blaine continued. His voice was rich and low, in the tone they always spoke to one another when the kids were asleep. 

“I had just auditioned for _Birdie_. _Cabaret_ had closed in the summer, and I didn’t have two nickels to rub together. My parents offered to fly us home for the holiday, but I needed to be in the city in case I got a callback. So we stayed here. My neighbor...you know, the old lady down the hall that’s said ‘Hi’ to you a few times? She invited us over, with her son and another neighbor of ours. It was a good thing, because there was no way I had enough money to buy a turkey for just me and Maya.” He paused, and Kurt could see the memories flooding his mind. “The year before that, we had Thanksgiving with some of my castmates from _Rent_ , and the year before that...I think I was too busy finishing school to even remember it was Thanksgiving.

“What I’m trying to say is…we’ve bounced around a lot before this. We haven’t had... _roots_ , or a home. I’ve tried, but…” Blaine trailed off, and then took a deep breath before continuing. “I think the reason why we didn’t is because I was supposed to find this. _You_ , Kurt. And everything you’ve given me.” His voice began to quaver. “We have this...this _family_ now that I never could have imagined us having a year ago. Just…I can’t thank you enough.”

Blaine’s words set fire to his soul, soaking in and spreading warmth through his whole body. “You don’t have to _thank_ me, Blaine. I feel like I should be the one thanking _you_ , for being willing to be a part of it. I’m lucky that I have them, but I’m even luckier now that I have you, and that you’re here with us.”

Blaine’s eyes sparkled with a film of unshed tears. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Kurt rose up on all fours and crept the rest of the way up Blaine’s body, so that their frames were perfectly aligned from head to toe. Their lips came together in a crushing kiss. Blaine’s arms wrapped around him, cradling his head and shoulders and cementing them in place together.

They kissed and kissed, with lips and tongue and teeth and love, until Kurt could barely breathe. When he broke away, panting hot bursts of air against Blaine’s stubbly cheek, he felt dizzy with fatigue and arousal. He wanted to sleep, to hold Blaine in his arms as they both drifted off into slumber. But right now, in this moment, he wanted to love him even more.

Kurt began to trail a path of soft, simple kisses along Blaine’s jawline. When he felt Blaine start to respond underneath him, Kurt wandered closer to his ear.

“So,” he whispered in a raspy voice he himself could barely hear. Because it was only for Blaine. It would only ever be for Blaine. “Any chance you saved some room for another slice of pie?”


End file.
